


They Have a Sniffer on Board?

by Four_Nostril



Series: The Ape-creatures Series [9]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Interspecies Sex, May/December Relationship, No Underage Sex, Old Age, Old Leonard McCoy, apewoman, even though she's only twelve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 05:24:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8736490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Four_Nostril/pseuds/Four_Nostril
Summary: Old McCoy comes to inspect the ship under Picard's command. He finds out that they have a new alien, a chemical analyst in the crew.A sniffer? He knew one of those a long time ago . . .





	1. Not Dead Yet

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a sequel to my TOS fanfiction stories. All you need to know is that McCoy has been in a relationship with an alien called Lily-Lee, but that was a long time ago.

–***–

_"Live life like you're gonna die – because you're gonna._

_But you'll have time to think: Why did I waste it? Why didn't I taste it?"_

_([William Shatner singing, "You'll have time")](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uol6HRMryoo) _

 –***–

 The shuttle came in to dock in the USS Enterprise-D. Data escorted branch admiral Leonard McCoy to check over medical layout on the new ship. **[[[Video clip here]]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yuNmLlTzSK4)**

 "Have you got some reason you want my atoms scattered all over space, boy?"

 "No sir. But at your age, sir, I thought you shouldn't have to put up with the time and trouble of a shuttlecraft." McCoy stopped walking.

 "Hold it right there, boy."

 "Sir?"

 "What about my age?"

 "Sorry, sir. If that subject troubles you . . ."

 "Troubles me? What's so damned troublesome about not having died? How old do you think I am?"

 "One hundred thirty seven years, Admiral, according to Starfleet records."

 "Explain how you remember that so exactly."

 "I remember every fact I am exposed to, sir."

 –***–

 

"An android. Hmf. And sickbay was full of machinery and not enough nurses in my opinion. The fleet is getting too reliant on new-fangled devices."

 "Not everything new is of a mechanical nature, sir. For example, Star Fleet has assigned much of the analytical equipment in the laboratory to be stand-by backup. During non-combat assignments, they are replaced by one crewmember. A chemical analyst, sir." McCoy straightened up and looked at Data. _The ship has a sniffer?_

 "Where is she?"

 "Papipo Op is presently in laboratory six. But . . . I am curious to know how you knew it was a female."

 "It's always a female. No male has ever left the home planet. Doesn't your info banks contain that little tidbit?"

 "Not yet, sir. I am scheduled to download information about all species included in the crew at the end of next shift."

 McCoy left Data and shuffled over to the elevators. The laboratories were on a different level. _Stupid designers. The laboratories should be closer to sickbay._

 –***–

 When Vovaror Poplolanonetot was discovered during the first five-year mission of the Enterprise, it had been Kirk's intention to introduce this race of born analysts to the fleet. They were a bit primitive, sure, but they could be extremely useful in screening and scanning. So they had brought one emissary with them, and she had been very useful indeed. Becoming a regular feature in the laboratories, however, had proven to be more difficult than expected. First the red tape, of course. Second, compressing the academy training to fit their quick learning pace and short life span. Some subjects had to be left out completely. Discipline, most notably.

After that came the first tries, and Star Fleet soon discovered that if you have more than one sniffer (as they were soon called) on a ship, then their migratory instincts would kick in. Even two of them were enough that they would form a tiny flock and try every way they could think of to leave the ship. So it had to be just one, and it was also imperative that this one adopted the crew as a substitute flock. If not, they would become sad, isolated, uncooperative and finally depressed.

When these facts were established and the program started to work, accidents and combat killed four sniffers. This became known on the home planet when they were scheduled to return but didn't. Star Fleet didn't get any volunteers for the next three decades. Eventually, the desire for something new overcame the fear, but by then the program had already been scrapped. They had to start over. All in all, it had been eighty years since the first human saw what McCoy now saw standing at the laboratory bench. It was a short, hairy, ape-like woman with stripes and four nostrils.

-***-


	2. Poppy Pie

"So they finally managed to put some of you through basic training. What's your name, little lady?"

"Papipo Op."

"Did nobody remember to give you a new name when you came on board for your first assignment? If not, then I'll do it."

"Would you? That is so thoughtful of you! What's it going to be? The sniffer walked over to McCoy with eyes glowing with anticipation. McCoy put his hand to his chin in a thinking pose.

"Let's see . . . I think your new name will be Poppy. Poppy Pie. That works, I believe?"

"YES!" Poppy rushed up and threw her arms around his hips for a big hug that made his old bones creak. That hug brought back memories for him. "How come you knew just what I was missing? And you didn't even ask what I was. You've met my kind before, haven't you?" She loosened her grip a bit but was still holding him, leaning her head back to look up at his face. He looked down at the hairy, patterned face. Wider stripes, a bit darker shade of pigment, but still very much like Lily-Lee. Unabashed, pushy Lily-Lee, who had been dead for so long now. McCoy felt some old, old grief coming back to him and felt . . . weak.

 

He gently took her arms away and walked over to the closest chair to sit down. She followed and looked at him with concern.

"You are crying."

He opened his blurred eyes and got a glimpse of Poppy watching the tears running down his cheeks. Her pupils were following each drop as it left the corner of the eye and got tangled in his wrinkles. Despite his mood, he could see the irony and decided to follow an impulse.

"Go ahead and taste them. I know you are trying to be polite to an old human, but it's okay. Really, go ahead."

"Are you sure?" She sat down in his lap and touched his wispy hair with one hand.

"Yes, I'm sure." It was my own idea, darn it! That line from his past broke him completely and the tears flowed even worse. Poppy leaned in slowly and nuzzled her cheek next to his. A soft kiss, and she gently put out the tip of her tongue to lick his tears and taste them.

 

–***–

 

"How old are you, anyway?"

"Twelve years."

"Oh, for crying out loud, my cardigan is older than that!"

"Ewww! Why do you still have it? You people hang on to so much old stuff."

"Maybe you're right. I'll try your perspective. So, already twelve years old and you don't have children yet. How come?" He was sarcastic, but she took him seriously.

"Well, I've been focusing on my career in Star Fleet. Graduated from academy, like you said. I'm planning to go home to Vovaror Poplolanonetot after this mission. I'll be seventeen, sure, but I can still get many fertile years with the flock before I die. But you still haven't told me why you know so much about sniffers."

"I was there when they were discovered, we brought your first emissary Lily-Lee with us. They weren't called sniffers yet." Poppy looked at McCoy with disbelief.

 "But . . . but that's ancient history. You can't have been there."

 "It's not THAT long ago. I remember it well, thank you very much. There are others from that journey that are still alive."

 She was still sitting on his lap but now she repositioned herself so that she straddled his thighs. Star Fleet uniforms were not as short these days as they had been eighty years ago, so she had to pull it up a bit. Poppy kissed his cheek again, and it was dry now. She hesitantly moved a little bit and came close to his lips. She pushed her hips in towards his and put her weight down on his groin. He spoke into her mouth.

 "Now don't try any funny stuff, little lady. I'm too old for this sort of thing."

 "Oh come on! You're not dead yet, right?"

 "I may not have died yet, but I can still be too old! Be careful with my femurs, they're brittle." Poppy pouted at him. McCoy poked her in the chest with a wrinkly finger to emphasise his words. "Don't think that giving me some sad-puppy look is going to change my mind. I–Am–Too–Old."

 "Fine. Can I still kiss you, though? I've been feeling lonely here and you taste so good." She didn't really wait for an answer and just leaned in for a deep kiss. McCoy joined in and put his arms around her back. _Why do I get the feeling that she doesn't intend to give up so easily?_ She put her knees down on the seat of the chair to take her weight off his legs. He appreciated it but still . . . he sort of wished she would sit down again and let her heat seep into his skin. It felt cold where she left him, like he had no warmth of his own and it all came from her. This is not Lily-Lee, this is not what it was back then . . . but it feels good, just like it used to.

 

Just as McCoy was about to give in to another pang of grief over the fact that humans outlived sniffers by so many years, a very different thought struck him. He started chuckling. Poppy sat up and looked at him with an inquiring face cocked to one side.

"Oh, I'll explain . . . just let me get my breath back. I just . . . I just realised I'm finally doing what Lily-Lee asked me to do so many times. Getting started on a flock of small hairy four-nostriled women. She would have loved it."

 –***–

 

"So, what do you do on this ship? Where can I find you?"

"Sorry, little lady, but you can't. I'll be going back to Star Base today. You'll have to try to get along with the crew on your own." McCoy could tell that she was disappointed, but it didn't take long before she shrugged her shoulders and got back to kissing. He heard the door open behind them. _Now, if that is Spock, I'm going to swear the universe itself is out to get me perpetually embarrassed._

But it wasn't Spock. It was Data, coming to see why the branch Admiral had abandoned his escort and the inspection. McCoy reluctantly got up and said goodbye to Poppy. He bent down for a final kiss and had trouble straightening up again. She said she might see him someday and got back to the bench.

When they were out in the corridor, Data hesitated but eventually spoke.

"If you don't mind my asking, sir, but aren't humans your age considered too old for this type of behaviour?"

"Of course I'm too old. It didn't stop me."

 –***–

[ ](http://s36.photobucket.com/user/Four-Nostril/media/startrekKISSmindre_zpsulkslmdo.jpg.html)

-***-

Art by Karl Johnsson


	3. Imprinting

When McCoy broke off the inspection early to have a private conference with captain Picard, Data found he had time to reschedule his planned information download. His memory banks were soon filled with updated information on Ferengi, Klingons, Vulcans, and sniffers. If he had not done so, he would not have reacted when he walked past an outlook point and saw Poppy staring out into space with a blank expression. Data stopped behind her. She didn't move. He made a noice which imitated clearing his throat. She turned around, looked up at his face and turned back to the view without acknowledging him. He observed her for a whole minute and then walked straight to the conference room. Picard was sitting at the head of the table. McCoy was leaned back against the chair with his communicator on the table in front of him.

–***–

 

"Captain Picard, may I have a word, sir?"

"Come in, Data, what is it?"

"I have gathered that it is vital to establish flock relations with the new chemical analyst, sir, to avoid triggering migration."

"Yes, I know. We have made plans for that. There will be a small welcome party this evening, with dancing and some wholesome games. She will get a chance to get a detailed impression of the crew members she will be working with."

"That may be too late, sir. I just observed Poppy staring out into space, and this is listed in the species description as the first warning sign."

"How can that be? She only came on board this morning! And since then, she has been spending all her work shift setting up the laboratory to suit her. What could have interferred?"

"Well, sir . . ." Data directed his glance towards the admiral, who was looking straight over the table at the opposite wall. McCoy pursed his lips and fiddled with his communicator. "It occurred to me that it may be caused by her kissing the admiral, sir."

"Nobody likes a tattletale, boy."

–***–

 

McCoy crossed his arms and looked up at the now standing captain with a frown. Picard sat back down with a sigh. Data decribed the event with more details and Picard looked more and more worried.

"Under normal circumstances, admiral, I wouldn't dream about questioning you about your personal life."

 "Good principle. I suggest you stick with it."

 "And the new analyst is certainly free to do as she chooses . . ."

 "Damn right she is."

"But this may seriously jeopardise the progress of the program. Admiral, you know how many setbacks there has been. I don't mind telling you this, but as far as Star Fleet is concerned, this is the last chance. If one more thing goes wrong they cancel the program for good. It's not Papipo Op personally ..."

"Poppy Pie." Data corrected Picard.

"Yes, thank you, Data. It's not her personally, but the situation in total. I am responsible for the safety of the crew, and I can't order Enterprise to leave orbit if I suspect that one crewmember's loyalty lies elsewhere." As Picard was talking, McCoy grew less annoyed and more guilty. He had made a mistake, and he felt regret.

"I didn't know she got on board so recently. Had she been here a couple of days, she would have tasted and smelled enough of you to get settled in."

–***–

 

"All right, I'm sure there is still time to remedy the situation. McCoy, you have plenty of experience with sniffers, is there anything you could recommend?"

"To get her to consider you part of her flock more than me? I guess the most efficient way would be to let her taste . . . " McCoy glanced over at Data's attentive face and decided to lean in and give his advise in a whisper to Picard.

"But that is outrageous! Certainly not!"

"Well, that's the best advise I can give you."

"But . . . but surely a friendly handshake will go a long way?" McCoy just shook his head at Picards desperate plea. "A hug?" McCoy shook his head again.

 "No, no, captain, I'm sorry but it won't do. The only other activity that helps to establish close relations is nitpicking. I don't see that method working for you." McCoy glanced at Picards scalp. Picard just glared back.

–***–


	4. Don't Leave Me

"Well, how about Data? He is fully functional. Besides, he helped her settle in."

"Excuse my interrupting, sir, but Poppy does not yet consider me a person. It may take some extra time for her to relate to an android. I don't metabolize, sir."

"Fine, I'll go talk to Riker. He's a ladies man." Picard got up, but McCoy motioned for him to stop.

"I'm pulling your leg, Picard. The problem is not that I am a flock member and the answer is not to have someone become more intimate than me. The problem is that she only has one flock member at the moment and that she believes this only person has left the Enterprise. That is why she wants to leave."

"I believe I have a suggestion for a simple solution, sir."

"Yes, Data, go ahead."

"That the branch Admiral stays a while, sir. At least until after the party. And we should inform her that he is still here before she does anything rash."

 

Picard nodded in agreement and suggested that they should all go to the laboratory. On they way there, McCoy was delayed by a need for a bathroom visit, and Data waited outside to escort him. Picard reached laboratory six before them. It was empty except for Poppy. Most of the machines were switched off but the desktop semisolid laser analyser was running. From the small device a hair-thin yellow light beam shone straight up and was caught by a detector shaped like a cocktail umbrella. Poppy was leaning both elbows against the bench and was moving a stylus back and forth through the light for no apparent purpose. The machine buzzed every time the stylus crossed the beam and spoke. "Bzz. Sample not semi-solid. Bzz. Sample not semi-solid. Bzz." Now she noticed Picard and switched off the analyser.

"Hello, captain. Those are captain insignia, right? I was only . . ." She stopped in mid-sentence and threw the stylus down on the bench. "Fine, I understand. I see it in your posture. I've gone and broken some unwritten rule again, right? What was it this time? I _did_ ask permission to kiss and I _did_ do it in private, so it must be something else." Picard realised that Data had been perfectly right. She was not in a good mood and sniffers were supposed to have a very even temperament. He sat down on a lab stool and attempted a fatherly approach.

"We can talk about that later. First I would like to ask you how you are getting on here."

"So-so."

"Do you feel left out? Or let me put it like this, do you feel like part of the crew?"

"Not yet, I suppose. Could I go down to the planet once more before we take off? There is someone I want to say goodbye to and oooooooh I get it!" Poppy's eyes widened and she let out a bunch of what Picard assumed were native bad language. "I can't believe I messed it up so quickly! I'm sorry captain, I'm so sorry. I won't migrate, I promise, it's just instinct. I'm sure I can resist it."

Picard wasn't so sure of that, and by the look on Poppy's miserable face she wasn't so sure either. The door opened and Data escorted McCoy in. Poppy's face changed rapidly to a wide smile that showed her protruding lower canines.

"Didn't you leave?"

"No. Apparently I have to stay for the party. But I'm warning you that there had better not be any 'Twister'."

–***–

 

"So who are you? I never asked you."

"I am branch Admiral Leonard Horatio McCoy."

"So can I call you Branch?"

"No."

"Why not? I know it's your title really, but it would fit so well. Lily, Poppy, Branch. A new tradition."

"I'm sure you would like something new, but please stick to Leonard."

–***–

 

The party was going well and the games had given way to dancing. McCoy felt tired and took the opportunity to leave without being noticed. It had been a long day. The music faded slowly behind him as he walked to his temporary quarters. He had been assigned one of the high-ranking guest cabins. That was one of the few good things about being an admiral. It was comfortable and quiet. But not for long. McCoy had only had time to hang up his cardigan when he heard someone at the door. It was no surprise to him that it was Poppy, and he smiled slightly as he let her in.

"Did you think you could sneak away?

"I thought maybe I could. You seemed to have a good time with the others."

"Leonard, I don't want you to leave me."

"That's very sweet of you, Poppy, but you see . . ."

"I want to leave YOU."

"That was a lot less sweet."

"Oh, you know what I mean. The males back home are stationary and territorial, the women migrate. I'll fight my urge to go after you as hard as I can, but it will be a lot easier for me if you can appear to stay put."

"I see. That makes sense, I suppose. Well, you can leave me now, if you want." McCoy sat down on the edge of the bed. Poppy came up close to him.

"I didn't say I want to leave right now." She sat down in his lap, like she had done that first time he met her. Ran her fingers through the hair at the back of his head. She whispered in his ear. "Can I stay the night?" He was about to say no. _No, I'm too old. Much too old for anything like that. Probably just a couple of years left to live for this old coot. Maybe just one year . . ._ His own reasoning changed his mind completely. _Just one year? God damn it, get moving, you imbecile! Do you think you'll get a better chance later?_ Instead of answering in words, he took the liberty of pulling down the zipper of her jumpsuit, and slipped his hands in to circle her waist under the fabric.

–***–

McCoy woke up from the slight sounds of Poppy dressing. He didn't sleep very soundly these days.

"So you're leaving now, little lady?"

"Yes. See you someday. Aren't you getting out of bed?"

"No, no, no, I'll sleep in. You go now, scoot!" Poppy gave him one last kiss and walked out of his quarters. He smiled and waved at her. As soon as the door closed, his smile disappeared to make way for a pained grimace. He reached for the intercom.

"Calling sickbay, this is branch Admiral McCoy."

"Medical officer Beverly Crusher here, Admiral."

"Send someone to pick me up on a stabilising stretcher, I've got two fractured femurs."

"I'm deploying personnel immediately!" Dr Crusher gave orders and spoke to McCoy again. "What has happened?"

"Is this going on my medical record?"

"Why yes, all incidents do, Admiral."

"In that case, I fell out of bed. Twice. Once on each side."

–***–


End file.
